


what friends are for

by xShieru



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Crack, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Murder, a lot of shenanigans occur, and romance too, mentions of various pairings, ryouga-centric, warped ideas of friendship, yuuma kills a man and they run away from the cops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-05 09:04:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11010276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xShieru/pseuds/xShieru
Summary: AU.  A hundred and one questions worm their way into his brain but what comes out of Yuuma’s mouth next puts all of Shark’s horrible mental scenarios to shame.“Shark, I…” Yuuma sucks in a deep breath, steadies his rapidly dwindling resolve. “I think I killed a man.”Shark calmly starts his bike and takes off at illegal speed. “I’m on my way."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> six books into deviance sociology final exam prep - this.  
> not to be taken seriously. 
> 
> the future chapters will hit you in the face with subtle hellshark (lol, subtle), seraph, foil, keyshipping and everything in between - none of that is relevant because the main focus is on FRIENDSHIPPPP (and the things that come with it)
> 
> Set in Zexal universe but without the whole war between three worlds, rock alien gargoyles and naked ghost astral. vector's life is still a shitstorm. they also duel. and they're like 20+ in this. ayyy.

Shark is terrorizing the streets on his daily midnight ride when he receives _The Call_ from Tsukumo Yuuma.

At first he considers ignoring the insistent beeps and the flashing letters of the D-Gazer’s glass – it’s his annoyance-free alone time, after all - but the visibility is kind of bad at best and he can never know when some drunken passerby will decide to stumble out into the vacant street. It’s that kind of neighborhood and he’s had to swerve out of the way more than enough times already.

On the third call – after realizing that turning up the music just won’t cut it – Shark touches the side of his custom-made goggles, barking a firm “This better be important.”

Yuuma doesn’t yell into his ear – the guy barely knows what an indoor voice is no matter how many times Shark painstakingly tries to teach him the correct definition – nor does he rant it off with meaningless bullshit consisting of Yuuma’s (and sometimes his friends’) daily failures. He doesn’t even challenge Shark to a friendly duel which is more than enough to warrant some of the biker’s concern.

In fact, Yuuma is scarily quiet, breath shaky as though he’s on the brink of crying.

Shark slows down and eyes the bleak landscape, looking for a good place to park the bike. “What’s wrong? Is it those assholes again? Do you need me to beat them up for you?” Considering Yuuma’s status in the Pro-Dueling scene, it wasn’t unusual for him to attract douchebag challengers and random creeps calling themselves fans. Shark doesn’t know which one is worse. Whatever the case, he’s always there to kick some ass if the guys are too pushy and won’t take no for an answer. Yuuma’s far too nice to be pulling out restraining orders out of his ass daily.

Yuuma takes in a shuddering breath. Then another.

Shark parks on the side of the road and waits, concern eating at the pit of his stomach. Was Yuuma kidnapped or some shit? Will he hear something along the lines of “come to the Heartland CO abandoned warehouse for an ass kicking or your friend kicks the bucket”?

A hundred and one questions worm their way into his brain but what comes out of Yuuma’s mouth next puts all of Shark’s horrible mental scenarios to shame.

“Shark, I…” Yuuma sucks in a deep breath, steadies his rapidly dwindling resolve. “I think I killed a man.”

Shark calmly starts his bike and takes off at illegal speed. “I’m on my way. Stay put and don’t touch anything.”

“I, uh. Okay.”

“And don’t you dare to freak out on me. Tell me where you are.”

Yuuma does.

* * *

 

The ride to Yuuma’s isn’t a long one. The guy now spends his days at the summerhouse located in the forest near his late master’s Duel Lodge – the very outskirts of Heartland city. There’s a whole private pro-duelist neighborhood stretching out on the other side of the mountains – Shark refers to it as the prissy rich people district – so he’s greeted by dimmed white lanterns and hidden cameras. Shark takes notice of all of them as he turns left and silently passes by the tall intricate fences obscuring the white-walled mansions.

He curses internally. If you’re gonna kill a guy, at least do it in a place where the security is less uptight and police drones don’t patrol every two hours.

Thankfully Yuuma lives in the less populated area and his house is nothing like the castles lining the entrance to the grove. The house is built of wooden planes rather than marble, there’s no such thing as a fence – Shark really needs to have another talk with him about that – and there are no nosy neighbors in sight, thank god for that. He can only hope that the drones don’t patrol this area – honestly, who would? Yuuma only comes there before grand tournaments to meditate or work on his zen or whatever the hell he calls it – Shark always filters it out.

Before he gets to fully climb off the bike and peel off his helmet, Yuuma is on him, all snot and bubbly tears. “Shark, what do I do, what do I do, my life is _over!_ ” he blubbers, voice echoing.

Shark cringes and peels the other away. “First off, wipe away your snot. Second, get your shit together.”

Yuuma actually looks mad at that. “How am I supposed to get my shit together when there’s a dead guy in my backyard!?”

“Stop yelling and moaning about it. That’ll be like the first step,” Shark shrugs and walks around the sobbing kid, nearly stumbling over the pine roots. God, he fucking hates nature. “How the fuck did you even manage to off someone with card games? You did off him with card games right…?” he questions as an afterthought, giving Yuuma a cautious look. No blood on him, that’s good.

The lights of the house are off – good, that’s the way it’s supposed to be – but even without them, Shark can make out the bulky shape of some beefcake lying in Yuuma’s jasmine bushes, clearly dead if the unseeing eyes are anything to judge by. Yuuma lets out a choked up whimper at the sight and presses a palm to his mouth, green-faced.

“My advice, stupid,” Shark throws over a shoulder as Yuuma tries his best not to empty his stomach. “Or do you need me to punch you to help you out?”

“I- I’m good,” Yuuma murmurs around his fingers. He’s shaking like a scared chihuahua. Pathetic, jeez.

Shark, the unsympathetic bastard, shrugs, gaze even as he lifts a fist. “You sure you don’t want a good knock on the jaw?”

“I said I’m _good!_ ” Yuuma yells, frowning. At least he isn’t acting like a kicked puppy anymore.

Shark’s smirk is satisfied at the response. “Now we’re talking. So tell me how’d this happen? I’m not gonna get rid of the body for you if you don’t dish out the details.”

“I didn’t – I wasn’t going to –” Shark gives him another unimpressed look and Yuuma sighs, shoulders slumping in defeat. “He kept challenging me ever since LLC and he just wouldn’t leave me alone. I don’t know how he found out that I’m spending time here but he sort of showed up on my doorstep and I couldn’t turn him down.”

“Did you consider just saying no?”

“Ha ha, funny. Yes, _I did_. It’s not like he let me go.”

Shark checks out the driveway, sees a dirt road and hopes that the bulky man had stuck to his stalker behavior and avoided the main streets. “Okay, you were playing a saint as always, no one is surprised there. Obviously you didn’t mean to kill the guy.” Yuuma cringes. “So?”

“So…?”

“How?”

“Oh! Uh, I somehow think that the electro discharge of the AR field did something to him. I attacked him directly with Muzurhythm and he… slumped down and didn’t move afterwards. I stopped the duel because he wouldn’t wake up and when I checked his vitals they were… they were gone,” Yuuma finishes sadly, observing the punk’s face for emotional impact.

Shark only grunts, non-committal. Pushes the tip of his boot into the dead man’s side as if hoping to gouge some reaction. “I heard that lately there’ve been some malfunctions with the AR fields. Here’s the funny part – no one’s checked into this, it’s almost like mayor Heartland gets off to killing duelists or something. Some people got injured but I’ve never heard of anything like this. Leads me to think that this poor dude had a weak heart. Unfortunate,” he shrugs. “But death by dueling is a better way to go than a heart attack at the age of thirty.”

“Have some sympathy, Shark!” Yuuma gasps, offended. Still pale-faced.

“You called the wrong guy if sympathy and comfort was what you needed. In any case, I can’t drive around with this mountain man wrapped up in black trash bags situated on the back of the bike. If we dig the grave here, the cops will sniff him out after checking the security cameras. We don’t really know which way he took to your place, right?”

Yuuma only nods, shaking again now that the topic of inevitable burial has been brought up.

“I propose you call someone who owns a big vehicle. A big trunk and tinted windows are a huge bonus.” Shouldn’t be a problem. Yuuma has more friends than Shark has problems and that’s really a fair comparison to make. He’ll undoubtedly find someone in his group of hyperactive weirdos and dumbasses. Perhaps even his older sister. Shark wishes it’ll be Yuuma’s sister.

Yuuma lights up in a way that makes Shark’s stomach squeeze with an uncomfortable sense of foreboding. He isn’t wrong when Yuuma hits a fist against his palm and gasps in sudden, ground-shattering realization “Kaito! I’m going to call Kaito immediately!” he exclaims and then fumbles with the D-Gazer hooked into the pocket of his white jeans, scrolling down the infinite list of contacts in search of the letter ‘K’.

Shark should probably stop leaving the thinking and important decision making to this idiot. He shudders at the mention of the blond’s name and pulls a displeased face, making sure to exaggerate it beforehand to get the point across. “Uhh, okay, worst case scenario I was going to nominate Tetsuo because why the fuck would you even think of that, why’d you think this is a good idea?” He spreads out his arms, tone rising in volume, unable to comprehend the thought process of his long-time best friend. It still baffles Shark how Yuuma manages to shatter his expectations by constantly doing something, well… completely unexpected. And really, really not well thought out most of the time. Shark isn’t sure why he’s still sticking around. Why he’s been sticking around for years now, for that matter.

Yuuma flares up at such proposal. “No way am I going to get my best friend involved in any of this! Or anyone in the gang for that matter!” Privately, Shark thinks that Kotori would not only hide the body but she’d also take the fall for Yuuma if they got discovered. “And Kaito, you know… he…”

Somehow Shark can actually see why Yuuma thought that the older asshole would be a good choice for this. “Looks like he steals souls for a hobby and has little to no regard towards the law system?” Shark helpfully offers.

Yuuma fingerguns with both hands, blinking. Bullseye. “Yeah, that! Also he’s not going to question any of this. Much.”

Shark takes in a deep sigh. Agreeing to something like this is making his head ache. The things he does for the sake of friendship. For Yuuma, specifically. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. Objectively. Compared to your other friends, this guy looks like the best option.” Ew, he wants to set his tongue on fire for that. “…Don’t tell him I said any of that.”

“Okie-dokie, Shark!” Yuuma sing-songs cheerfully as if he’s already forgotten the dead man in his bushes and rings up Shark’s nemesis. He only crosses his arms and walks to lean against the nearest tree, staring at the waning moon above. It’s barely noticeable due to the light pollution constantly covering the sky. He listens to Yuuma chatting with Kaito – who seems just as unperturbed as Shark, he too probably always knew that something like this might happen and always waited for this day to come – and wonders why his life is one huge cartwheel through the nine circles of hell.

“Oi, tell him not to drive down the main road unless he wants to be caught on film,” Shark warns.

Yuuma relays it in a single breath, nods along to whatever Kaito says and then turns back to his friend, who looks more and more annoyed by the second. “He said that he isn’t “a careless, abrasive idiot” like you and that you should mind your own business.”

“Oh yeah!? You can tell him to shut the fuck up!”

Yuuma doesn’t.

* * *

 

Kaito rolls in forty minutes later with an “inconspicuous” white van missing its “FREE CANDY” sign and he’s dressed in whatever he assumes to be comfortable clothes – Shark thinks he looks fucking stupid.

“Master of disguise,” Shark snarks when Kaito removes the dark, sharp sunglasses to reveal those dead, ice-colored eyes. “Why are you wearing those at 1 am? If I were a good cop, I’d stop you immediately.”

Kaito regards him with a disgusted look that perfectly matches Shark’s own. He lacks the hostile, curled lip though. “It’s a good thing you’re not a cop then. I’d be really concerned for everyone’s safety if some dumbass decided to hire you.”

“Hello to you too, fellow wrongdoer.”

“Kaito!” Yuuma chirps and jump-hugs the aforementioned man who pretends to be unaffected and mildly irked but it’s rather clear that he’s in a particularly affectionate mood – not for long though. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How’s Haruto doing?”

Shark gapes when the tulip-head smiles. “He’s well. Though I don’t think that now’s the time to discuss this. We’ve more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Yeah, an unplanned murder for one,” Shark shatters the moment and comes closer, glowering at Kaito. “I hope you brought the tools. He’s not gonna dig himself a grave, you know.”

“You want to dig a grave?” Kaito’s nose scrunches up. “Ryouga, they’ll find it in two days. You should know it. I’ve got a better idea to hide the evidence.”

“What, you’re gonna dump him in the river? Chop up the body parts and hide them in various places?”

“W-what…?” Yuuma warbles, looking extremely sick at the same time Kaito pointedly deadpans “Precisely.”

Yuuma turns to him, red eyes wide from fear. “Y-You want me to c-c-chop up t-the body?”

Shark whacks him on the back of the head. Kaito actually thanks him for that, which is ew, _creepy_.

“We’re going to throw him into the river.”

“Last time I checked, there’re cameras situated all around the shore! Further ahead there are buildings, you know.” Shark hisses. “You want us to get caught or something!?”

“Keep your decibels in check, fool,” Kaito hisses back, just as ferocious. From the corner of his eye, Shark notices Yuuma wobbling to sit on a small round table placed nearby. He determinedly avoids looking in the direction of the dead body. Poor guy, honestly. “There are none at the place we’re going. Just gonna take us a while to get there and we need to take some stupid U-turns before we reach our destination.”

“Yeah, and we’re definitely going to get there safely with you and your stupid glasses behind the wheel.”

Yuuma is shaking so badly that Kaito decides to take pity and end this stupid argument, that’ll undoubtedly last the entire ride there, before it can escalate. “I’ll take off the fucking sunglasses if it gets you to shut the hell up and get off my back for one second.”

“One second?” Shark’s nasty grin slips in as he shuts his mouth for a beat and then snarks for the nth time that night. It’s only been ten minutes at best and they’re already getting along like a house on fire. “ _One_ – you suck and I win.”

“I hate you,” Kaito says and makes his way towards the body, unrolling a black bag. “Really, I hate you.”

Yuuma starts crying again.

* * *

 

Small talk is awkward at best when there’s a dead body thudding in the trunk.

Kaito turns up the volume – some random pop idol song is blasting through the speakers but no one’s actually listening to it, lost in their thoughts, therefore Shark doesn’t take it upon himself to change the radio station – and Yuuma looks like he’s one breakdown away from opening the door and throwing himself into the empty streets.

They all tense up when a car passes them by, but to anyone and everyone they’re just random, good people travelling in the dark of the night.

Kaito keeps an eye on the speed limit at all times, tightens his pale hands around the steering wheel even further and chances a few rushed glances at Yuuma’s dead-looking face through the rearview mirror.

Shark cannot wait to see how this one unfolds as Kaito clears his throat and asks Tsukumo Yuuma how he’s doing. The bastard should go out more if this is the pinnacle of his mood-reading skillset.

Of course, being infinitely kind and all, Yuuma answers the question while laughing nervously. He keeps wringing his hands and somehow Shark finds this tic the most annoying. Troubling, even. “Oh I’m pretty good, except, you know, I just killed a man with Muzurhythm.” The smile falls off his face immediately as Yuuma grabs the sides of his head, mussing up the hair even further. “I literally murdered a guy with music,” he winces in what seems to be dawning realization.

Despite the severity of the situation, Kaito looks a second away from snorting. Somehow he manages to play it cool and only once he’s certain there’s no laughter left in his system, he attempts to lighten the mood. Lamely, but he’s doing a better job at it than Shark. “At least that man went out in style, with a good flamenco tune to boot.”

Shark can see him visibly shake with suppressed laughter and he cannot believe that this is actually real – Kaito isn’t known for emoting. Or emotions in general other than indifference, mild and full-blown rage followed by some more indifference. The soft edges that resurface whenever Kaito’s around his younger brother do not count because they look like something close to a fever dream thus in Shark’s mind they’re non-existent.

Shark decides to butt in to save himself the secondhand embarrassment. “If I went out with that garbage, I’d use the Resurrection of the Dead with the remains of my detached, wandering soul, bring myself back on the field and then self-destruct.”

Kaito smirks, gaze fixed on the road again. “I always forget that you’d rather get killed by that trash you listen to. What’s it called again? Techno-rock?” Shark squints in his direction, hoping for the van to magically crash and kill off Kaito alone. As if noticing the toxic stare, Kaito smugly turns his way and the smirk widens. “Wait, I just realized! I don’t want to know. You look like you were about to say something, Ryouga, you can save yourself the rant.”

Shark closes his slack jaw with an audible click and seethes – mindlessly dancing into Kaito’s verbal trap. “How dare you shit on my music tastes!?”

“Not your music tastes, just your bass guitar and – okay fine, also your music tastes.”

“Okudaira is as fucking rich as your goddamn daddy.”

“No thanks to your bass guitar, I’m certain.”

Shark rants and hisses the entire way there, growling like a wild dog when Kaito whispers “wake me up inside”. He hates it when low blows involve his… _teenage phases._ With Kaito it always involves low blows.

At least Yuuma seems to be listening to their mindless, pointless fighting rather than musing over the inevitability of death and the meaning of life.

* * *

 

With some difficulty, they haul the guy out of the trunk. Yuuma stays behind and watches the tall trees swaying in the rising wind, rustling mysteriously. The noises of the night are drowned out by the roaring of the swirling river way down below. They’re situated on a sharp cliff plummeting down into a rocky, wet hell.

The wet hell’s exactly where this guy is going.

Kaito unzips the bag and says something about faking a suicide attempt – apparently a lot of people come here for this specific reason. Perhaps because of the protruding, unstable bridge just waiting to be used. And yeah, what better way to go than to fall into a river from this height? If you don’t die on your way down, the rocks take care of everything.

Shark, in his discreet way, probably thinks that it’s a pretty neat idea and squats over the body, checking for valuables.

Kaito doesn’t bother masking his discomfort whereas Yuuma’s still trying very hard not to vomit into the knee-high bushes. “Are you seriously doing this?” he frowns when Shark takes off the gold ring and a necklace, turning it over in his palm to inspect the value. He goes for the pockets next. “You’re despicable,” Kaito spits as Shark glares and turns back to the wallet that he’d found.

“Not all of us are the sons of a billionaire scientist, tulip. Some of us actually need to earn their money and help out their useless younger siblings.” He pockets the measly sum. Eh, enough for gas. “So shut the fuck up and help me hoist him up.”

Kaito grabs the mountain man by the armpits whereas Shark is left with the legs and Yuuma sobs as they bring the dude to the bridge, creaking from their combined weight.

“If you’re going to fucking bitch about it, call the cops now and confess!” Shark yells over the roar of water as Yuuma hops from one foot to another, looking really torn up over this predicament. “If not, help us throw him down. He’s kinda heavy in case you haven’t noticed.”

“What Ryouga said.” Kaito’s noodle arms shake from the strain. Shark regards the state he’s in – better do it quick. The guy’s a fucking weakling. “Also if you gotta throw up, do it over the rail. Leave no evidence behind.”

“What’s it gonna be, Yuuma?” No pressure. “You’re in or are you out?”

With one last startled look, Yuuma twirls around as if to double-check that no one is coming, no one is seeing this, he squeezes his eyes shut, steels his resolve and all but runs to his friends, helping Kaito out.

His eyes won’t open no matter what as he chews his lower lip bloody and Shark starts the countdown.

The body noiselessly slaps against the turbulent, bubbling surface and disappears.

They don’t let Yuuma take a moment, worried about night-time wanderers. Shark salutes and then grabs his best friend by the waist, nearly carrying him all the way to the ride. Kaito follows a moment later, face expressionless.

* * *

 

“We gotta agree on some things.” Kaito speaks up when they park in the meadows, far away from the city. The digital clock on the dashboard reads 2:48 am. Yuuma tiredly looks into the distance, the backdoor opened and his feet planted on the dry grass. He hasn’t spoken a word ever since they left. Kaito didn’t even bother to turn up the radio.

“There’s not much to agree on,” Shark shrugs and stifles a yawn. He’s feeling pretty tired after this whole getting rid of a body business. “We drop you off, I give you the keys to my bike – if there’s a single scratch on it when I get back you’re the next one to take a swim – you bail and I take off with Yuuma. My sis will keep him safe until this shit dies down. If you forge some news coverage, that’ll be in our favor as well.”

“Wait, _I_ bail? You’re clearly the one who should stay behind! You fucking rode in there on your bike, wouldn’t it be fucking weird if someone else left on it? Either you go back and do it yourself or you leave the bike at Yuuma’s.”

Shark frowns and checks his phone again. Rio hasn’t texted him back yet – not that he expects it to be today. She’s clearly sleeping. “I’m taking him to my sister, Kaito, are you fucking deaf? Plus, don’t you have shit to do at the company? Wouldn’t anyone think it weird that you suddenly disappeared with Yuuma?”

“Not if I forge the news coverage, genius. Plus, I packed,” he gestures to the backseats. On the other side of Yuuma, there’s a sizeable bag and a backpack.

Yuuma offers nothing to the conversation, vacant-eyed. Shark fears that they’ve somehow managed to mentally damage the other. Either that or he’s just sleeping with his eyes open. He feels the headache intensifying.

Objectively, Kaito is the better choice for this entire charade. He’s the rich one, the influential one. He could hide Yuuma somewhere better, somewhere that isn’t his sister’s college flat located half a country away. He’s gonna face no problems with his level-headedness and all and yet all that Shark wants is to keep his best friend safe. To be the one to take care of him even if they might get caught or something like it. He just wants Yuuma to be safe, dumb and happy. It’s what friends are for, right? Care and helping to get rid of accidental murder evidence.

“I’m not leaving him behind,” Shark says, silent. He rubs the bridge of his nose. Soullessly, Yuma turns to face him, fixing him with a level stare. “I could even leave now, I don’t give a shit. I’d drive with one pair of clothes for days in a row if that’s what it takes. And I sure as fuck will not be excluded by some whim of yours,” he adds with more spirit so that he doesn’t look like he has… soft feelings or something like it.

As if on cue, his phone buzzes in his pocket. Rio’s message reads: **sure, come over right away! is something wrong though? you’re not in trouble, are you?**

That’s the closest thing to destiny Shark’s going to believe in.

Kaito heaves a sigh. It’s quiet for a few moments except for the wind rustling in the tall, yellowed grass. “You got your passport just in case, right?” he doesn’t sound like he approves of Ryouga’s presence in this plan but who is he to go against the power of friendship.

“Mhm. Passport, my deck, extra cash, phone, charger. Bling we can pawn.”

“That’s all good for now, I guess. Your sister?”

“Just gave me an okay.” Shark lightly shakes his phone to the sides with Rio’s message open on the screen.

Yuuma slowly moves his legs back into the vehicle and Kaito worriedly eyes his reflection in the mirror, analyzing the usually hyperactive boy’s sluggish body language. “I’ll contact Haruto. We’re going to cover this up the best as we can.”

The engine comes back to life and they take off the shingle road, leaving clouds of dust in their wake.

* * *

 

The next morning they stop near a gas station to make themselves presentable and get some breakfast. Kaito checks the news only to find out that nothing out of the ordinary has been reported and shakes Yuuma awake who only complains about the crick in his neck but takes the offered toothbrush nonetheless, making his way towards the bathroom. Shark steals their toothpaste and shoves a finger into his mouth to clean the teeth, frowning at having to do this again. Why the fuck didn’t they sell any toothbrushes in here? Isn’t it kind of basic? He’s certain that more people need basic supplies rather than the impressive assortment of lube and condoms taking up one of the walls, the shelves situated right next to freshly-baked cupcakes and dry croissants.

He pops in the last two pieces of spearmint gum he had in the back pocket of his grey jeans and buys some food that he knows Yuuma will like. Outside, Kaito is refilling the tank and talking to someone on the phone.

Yuuma seems far more alive now that he’s gotten a semi-decent rest and while Kaito drove the entire night, he shows no signs of weariness. Shark figures that it must come from his renowned AI robot technician life-style. A few sleepless hours mean nothing to him whereas Shark feels as though there’s sand piling under his eyelids.

They have a five day long journey ahead of them if they drive with only minor breaks lasting a few hours at most. Fuck this country, honestly.

Yuuma eats his chicken and tomato sandwich like a good boy, Kaito’s hands start shaking on the steering wheel after he ingests that oil crap that he calls strong Americano and Shark tries to ignore the hell out of his buzzing phone. Fucking shit, he can’t even read the news in peace.

Whatever, he’s gonna ignore the guy for all it’s worth.

Kaito glares at the noisy device and looks as though he’s about to say something but then Yuuma whimpers something about music and murder into his jelly bun and Shark has to put his foot down.

He whips around to glare at his best friend and violently lowers the volume of the radio. “Okay, I’ve just about had it with this. From now on we’re gonna set some house rules.”

“But we’re in a car, Shark –”

“ _Don’t. Interrupt me._ We did what we did and the sooner you accept the reality, the better you’ll sleep at night, not like you have any problem with that as far as I can tell.” Shark makes sure to drop his voice to a low, menacing pitch. “If you bitch about the murder one more time, you’ll be leaving this car in a body bag too, don’t you test me.”

Kaito rolls his eyes so hard that the blue irises nearly disappear. However he seems to support this statement – Yuuma’s constant whining is making it hard for all of them. The kid is far too empathic. “The notorious criminal has given you the first warning, Yuuma,” is all he manages to get in before a green hologram pop up on the dashboard, showing an incoming call from Haruto. Kaito looks at his companions. “Not a single word from you. It’s best if he thinks that I’m alone.”

“I’m gonna yell “pass the weed” just to spite you.”

“Piss off,” Kaito snorts and answers it.

Haruto fills them in on the situation – it’s all cool, no one knows, no one asked (for Yuuma and Kaito, at least). Kaito’s father thinks that he’s feeling ill from the workload and that he’d gone back to his old home at the countryside to relax.

As for Yuuma…

“I got this covered,” Haruto’s nasally teen voice chirps through the com. He seems satisfied. “I photoshopped some pics of Yuuma chilling at the beach in Crane islands, the tabloids should eat it up without a question. It’s going to buy you some time as well.”

Kaito gets that “proud older brother” smile. Shark cringes, internally. “Well done, Haruto.”

“The problem is Akari… I sent the pics for her to spread around as the latest scoop. I didn’t say anything but she’s very suspicious and she told me that Yuuma’s been out of contact for two days now – highly unlikely. Perhaps you should notify her… I’m not sure. At least let her talk to Yuuma. She’ll calm down when she hears her brother’s voice…”

Kaito knowingly looks Yuuma’s way who only mutters his sister’s name, looking a little guilty. A little scared – it’s not every day you confess murder to your older sibling.

Kaito asks some more stuff related to work and Haruto’s current state of being and with that they end the small talk, Haruto promising to check in with them in case something goes down. “Oh, also tell Ryouga that I said hi and that he should visit sometime.”

Shark’s a little flattered to find out that Mr. Tulip over there has confided in his younger brother that he’s riding together with his nemesis. The blond moodily mutters something along the lines of “will do”, and disconnects.

Without looking at Shark, he mutters “Haruto says he hates you.”

“I could hear him the entire time, you know.”

“Worth a shot.”

* * *

 

Akari yells Yuuma’s ear off when he contacts her through his D-Gazer, but takes it like a champ. Akari seems worried as hell, but not once does she give Yuuma any kind of shit about not contacting the police immediately. She promises death to his travelling companions if they somehow fail to get Yuuma to a safe place and tells that she’ll take care of things on the other end.

She also agrees that it’s for the best to keep Ryouga’s “stupid bike” at Yuuma’s summerhouse and says that she’ll safely park it inside Yuuma’s sizeable toolshed. That bike is Ryouga’s most prized possession along with his deck and the metal ring on his left hand, and he’ll be damned if some rich kid decides to hotwire his ride and then steal it.

Somehow the talk with Akari forcefully knocks Yuuma back to his usual, cheerful self and hey, at least he no longer sobs into his orange juice. They entertain themselves with bickering and stupid road trip games and by the time the night falls and the skies turn cobalt, Shark realizes that in some twisted, bizarre way this kind of really does feel like a friendly road trip. Running away from the law system, getting rid of dead bodies together, the usual friendship business. He wouldn’t have it any other way – well, perhaps he could do without the possibility of Yuuma going to prison for the next twenty years.

Kaito rises from his slumber the moment he hears Shark rip off the plastic wrapping of his minties. He’s been stressed enough to resort to old habit, he hasn’t had a proper smoke in ages.

“No cancer in this car, I get enough of it whenever you open your mouth,” Kaito slurs through the sleep haze and rubs at the purple bruises he calls his eyelids. Yuuma entertains himself with games on Shark’s phone.

“How about you just go back to sleep and pretend that you didn’t see anything.”

“I can smell it, asshole,” Kaito murmurs and readjusts his pose. It hurts to watch – his arms will be buzzing with static when he properly wakes.

“Then just? Don’t breathe?”

“Kaito’s right,” Yuuma pipes up from the back. He sticks out his tongue as he tries to score higher on the silly ninja app that Shark has downloaded due to pure boredom like four years ago. He’s never managed to get past level six. Yuuma’s already on level seventeen. “Smoking’s bad for your health.”

“Oh wow, it’s almost as if we didn’t live on the same fucking planet with the same basic knowledge.” Shark flicks the lighter. Kaito groans and pinches his nose.

Yuuma dies in the game due to another vibration rattling the phone and frowns at Shark’s reflection. “Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I’m _kattobingu_ for death.”

“ _Kattobingu_ isn’t meant to be used for this kind of… reason!” Yuuma frowns, offended.

“You said that _kattobingu_ is different for everyone. Here's mine. Also chill. It was a joke.”

“Not funny!”

“It’s because you have no sense of humor,” Shark grins as smoke comes out of his nostrils in sharp lines. “Look, I can even do this.” Yuuma stares in slight amazement as his friend puffs a few shaky circles. “Not enough smoke, it looks way better with a shisha, but you get the idea. Like, you can be a fucking dragon and if that’s not to die for, get out of my face.”

“You’re an insult to all dragons alike,” the user of Galaxy-Eyes Photon Dragon mumbles sleepily. He finally looks like he’s giving up on rest. Shark would feel sorry except he doesn’t. Like, at all. Kaito can’t fucking drive for shit, he’s so slow it physically pains Shark to be sitting up front and he’d seen more than a few grandmas pass them on a highway. A fucking highway. Clearly, with Shark behind the wheel they’ll get to Rio’s in no time. “Don’t listen to him, Yuuma, he’s just suicidal.”

“Whatever you say, dragon fucker.”

A tired Kaito is a grumpy, vengeful Kaito, and Shark’s just insulted his favorite creatures. That sort of nonsense cannot go unpunished. “And it goes with his douchebag image, you know. Being a tool isn’t enough for Ryouga, he’s aiming to become the entire toolbox.”

“You think I’m extra? Have you seen yourself duel? What the fuck’s a _Photon Change_ anyway? You get a white coat and a blue tattoo on your eye and what’s that for, huh? Show off.”

“I want to sock you in the eye _so badly_ but we’d die a horrible death, so I’ll withhold.” Shark throws out the yellowed filter as Kaito rolls on his side and stares at the rocky hills stretching out for kilometers upon kilometers.

“Sweet. That’s like a second win for me.”

Kaito gives him a sour look. Fitting of a _sourpuss._

Yuuma loses interest in their petty one-upmanship soon enough and attempts to return to the game but only curses loudly when there’s another vibration screwing up his attempts to jump over an obstacle. “Goddamnit, Shark, can you reply to IV already? My hand’s going numb from this and he’s been spamming you ever since we left.”

Kaito rises, wincing at the sharp pain of his numb tailbone. “Oh? So that’s who it was?”

“Go back to bed, imbecile, nothing to be smug over.” Shark feels annoyance creeping up his spine as he grips the leather cover of the wheel so harshly that his knuckles feel like they’re about to pop out from underneath his pale skin.

“I’ll be as smug as I please. Also Yuuma’s right, it’s been getting on my nerves. If you don’t want to see the texts, put it on silent.”

“And how am I supposed to know when Rio writes, huh?”

“You call her, obviously.”

“Later.” He turns to Yuuma, ignores Kaito’s rough “oi, eyes on the road”. “What does he want?”

“Something about how he’s going to die, I don’t really know. Only one half of the texts show up. You should definitely check up on him,” Yuuma worries even though IV’s been nothing short of a major asshole to him in the past and tried to sabotage his and Michael’s friendship on more than one occasion. But that was in the past, they were young, idiotic teens, Yuuma muses. He’s forgiven IV for being a soulless shithead who’d tried to (successfully) ban Shark from pro-dueling. He’d only taken back his stupid claims a few years back and by then it’d been too late – Yuuma was already reigning supreme as Heartland’s top duelist. Shark never quite managed.

Okay, maybe Yuuma gets salty at times, but that’s only human nature and he’s a firm believer that being nice and trusting triumphs over everything else. It’s how he’d been raised – under the rule of _kattobingu._

Shark groans internally. Then externally. Stops the car on the side of the road and pushes insistent, grabby fingers in Yuuma’s direction. “Give me that.”

Yuuma hands the device over and he and Kaito watch Shark’s face turn from amazed, to downright pissed and then somewhat embarrassed.

He thinks that he could write an entire story from these stupid, shitty texts.

**From: scarred fuckface**

**ryouga you promised to duel me, have u forgotten?? ive been waiting outside for two hours now**

**its raining and ive a photoshoot in like 20 mins**

**where are u**

**IM NOT LEAVING UNTIL I GET TO KICK YOUR PISSY ASS FOR AT LEAST ONE TURN**

**ryouga its been four hours text me back. my manager is looking at me funny**

**the pics are turning out like CRAP because you wont respond to my goddamn texts**

**ryouga its been three whole minutes ive given u many chances to respond what r u doing where tf are u jesus fuck**

**p.s. if u ruin my career as the world’s top fanservice i will annihilate you.**

**if you dont text me back by the evening im breaking into ur house. im not joking u ass.**

And then things get really wonky. Shark squints at the barrage of texts, feels a sudden urge to rip at his purple-tinted hair in frustration. What is Thomas ‘IV’ Arclight even!?

**im in ur backyard, ryouga. btw get a lower fence i just ripped my business meeting pants**

**appreciate it**

**the neighbors saw me while i was picking the lock of the backdoor so i bailed but ill come back tomorrow if u dont call me.**

And then there are the texts that keep ruining Yuuma’s attempts at gaming and distracting himself.

**ryouga uve never ignored me for so long u would at least send me a turd emoji so id know that you dont give a shit**

**did i do something**

**did i unknowingly insult your blimp-sized pride. again.**

**did you find out that i was the one who switched half of your cards with fairy-types before that CC showdown??**

**it was rlly funny dude dont be mad you still won right**

**I didn’t mean it?**

**oh who am i kidding i totally did lmao**

**ryouga i will die. i will actually lie down on the ground and physically die if you dont reply**

“I don’t know this person,” Shark grits out through clenched teeth and holds the phone as far away as he physically can. “I think I should throw out the SIM card.”

Kaito seems just as fed up as Shark feels on the inside “Or you can hand it over and I will silence it. And it will be permanent. Also don’t you dare to text back your clingy spouse, specifically your location. The moment Thomas finds out, he’ll be here in his private helicopter with twenty reporters in tow.”

Yuuma looks at the phone as if it’s a bomb that’s about to go off. He looks at Kaito with a worried look marring the space between his sharp eyebrows.

“He’s…  not gonna ask Chris to hack Shark’s phone in order to track us down, right…? He won’t, right?”

They all fall silent. Shit, that was a possibility too. Good thing that Shark wasn’t going to text back Thomas regardless.

Kaito tries to sound confident but it’s clear that he isn’t sure of his own words. The sentence almost comes out as a question. “Chris would never do that sort of thing.” He then nods firmly. He hopes that his fellow work colleague and friend isn’t stupid enough to subject himself to Thomas’ childish and often foolishly miscalculated whims. Unless Chris’ going to get really suspicious about the circumstances of Kaito’s disappearance and he’ll decide to investigate in private. Just like…

Shark seems to be discovering his hidden talent as a renowned psychic. “Oh, except for that one time when he totally did just that because you were missing for, what now, three days? Tripping on acid at BARian with that Mizael freak. Or what’s his face.”

Kaito has nothing to say for himself. It was… an interesting experience. Privately, he thinks that he’d be willing to do it again. Perhaps with someone who wasn’t Mizael, though. It’d felt as if the gravity and the pressure of the world had disappeared in the blink of an eye and he was left swimming in the depths of infinite cosmos, jumping on the gray surface of the moon. Pretty neat. “It was a rough week,” he confesses, hanging his head in shame.

Shark looks at him as if he’s hit his head too hard against the window. “You two were sitting on the couch in the basement and throwing cards at each other’s faces. You both thought that you were dueling.” It’d been pretty hilarious, from what he’d heard. Chris, however, wasn’t too impressed as he collected a stoned Kaito, still trying to summon his Galaxy-Eyes. Their LP consisted of watermelon-flavored Tic-Tacs.  Shark tries to stay on track before he can laugh himself into a coma due to the ensuing hilarity that his tired mind provides. “Yuuma was certain you’d died in a ditch.”

Yuuma shivers at the memory of Kaito’s possible loss. “It was the worst three days of my life.”

Kaito covers his face and reclines in the seat. The shame eats away at him, hot and intense. Kind of like the sensation of the drugs that Mizael had shoved his way. He’d been looking for a way to relax after his finals. Dueling wasn’t cutting it at that point. “Shut up, both of you just – shut up.”

“Hit a nerve?”

The blond peeks at Shark through spread fingers, frowning icily. “Remind me, why’d we bring you along again? Yuuma, just what kinds of synapses had to connect inside that peanut-sized brain of yours for you to think that yes, calling this fucktard is _a good idea?_ ”

“Beats me,” Shark shrugs. “Why’d you call me first anyway?”

Yuuma doesn’t waste time when it comes to answering, certain of his choices. “Because you’re Shark! You know… I mean, I saw you take out a forty-people bike gang with a Kuribolt card because they had insulted the jacket that your sister had given you. You don’t even own Kuribolt! So like, you know, seemed like a given. And a pretty good idea at the time as well.” Yuuma sticks out his tongue, sheepish. Musses at the long hair on the back of his head.

Shark chokes at the same time Kaito snorts into his fist. “Because I have a record on me!?”

“I… guess?” Yuuma blinks, musing over it as well. Huh.

“I, too, would ring up the guy who went to jail for provoked assault and then got a dumb, big tattoo of himself as a mershark on his back just to be extra and mark his time there.”

“In my defense, the dude promised me that he’s an art genius.” Removing that piece of trash had cost a pretty penny and scarred a little because apparently Shark’s back is a soft, untainted peach that bruises at the smallest of scratches. He’d gotten a cool, traditionally-styled Poseidon tattoo to cover up the small off-white scars and irritated skin patches. The artist even used some of them to his advantage, incorporating them into the tatt.

“I highly doubt that,” Kaito says, just to rub more salt into the wound. And to rub salt in general seeing as he is a true salt bag.

Yuuma’s eyes sparkle at the mention of Shark’s… old artwork. “I thought that it was cool!” The only person who had thought that, actually. Rio had nearly cried when she saw that monstrosity on her brother’s back and her only forced comment was – _nice fins._

Kaito’s eyebrows disappear somewhere into his green strands. “Yuuma, full offense, but you thought that flare pants were cool, so you don’t get to say anything.”

“Says the guy who prances around in white tights,” Shark mutters and starts the engine again. They’re losing time over meaningless shit that could easily be discussed on the road.

“You know nothing of comfort, jewel-studded boots.”

“At least I don’t look like a goddamn Disney prince reject.”

“At least I don’t look like a gaudy thrift-shop ad.”

Yuuma sighs, raises his voice. “Okay okay, both of you shut up for now. All of us have a unique aesthetic going on, so let’s leave it at that, ok?”

Shark shrugs. “Fine.” And then under his breath “He started it, though.”

“What.”

As annoying as the constant bickering gets, especially if you’re stuck with two self-proclaimed rivals, Yuuma can’t help but smile fondly at his best friends. They did so many things for Yuuma’s sake, for his safety and he cannot thank them enough. He loves them both and appreciates them equally.

“Shaaaark, give me your phone! I wanna reach level twenty by the end of the day!”

All is good.


	2. Chapter 2

The evening brings boredom, tropical heat and temperature-insensitive idiots.

Shark considers stripping down to his goddamn boxers and then stealing Kaito’s deodorant because he feels like an actual nerdy tween after the final P.E. class of the schoolyear, but decides against it cause: 1) leather seat covers and sweaty backs don’t mix, and 2) he’d rather not smell like their designated driver because ew. If he lucks out completely, he won’t be able to wash off the stuffy scent of pomegranates and chili peppers – “The scent of manly Courage”, the label reads – for the next four days.

However, he does shed the studded, purple jacket, constantly tugging on the low-cut collar of the black T-shirt.

Kaito really does despise him, fiercely and unquestionably, because he has no plans of stopping the car on the second day of their cop-drama based field trip no matter how much Shark bitches about it. Which would be alright and all if the AC wasn’t wheezing out its final, dying breaths and it wasn’t like 23+ °C outside. Did he mention that it’s also 9 PM? Because it’s 9 fucking PM.

Yuuma happily sits in an oversized hoodie like the atrocious cold-blooded animal that he secretly is, and complains when Shark rolls down the window as low as it can go. “It’s cold,” he whines, dragging out the syllables of every word and then some when Shark doesn’t bother to outwardly react.  “Close the window.”

He rolls up the window by a few millimeters just to make Yuuma shut up. Kaito’s sweat-free eyebrows stop twitching afterwards.

“Stop dicking around with the AC,” he warns, emotionless and uptight as ever.

To which Shark would reply with either “make me” or “this is what you get for picking a goddamn amalgamation of a broken “free candy” van and a hearse to take you halfway across the country” but even he knows that there’s not much to be done about the poor thing. It’s turned up on full-blast but the fresh air it provides is no better than a slight summery breeze at best.

Shark keeps dicking around with the controls some more just to piss Kaito off, glaring at the stupid, worthless thing when it doesn’t immediately cower under his commanding stare and start working. In fact, it sounds worse.

Kaito rubs at the bridge of his nose, sighs in blatant exasperation. Yuuma snorts. “Oh yeah, just punch it _again_ , I’m sure it’s gonna do the trick.”

Shark deadass looks Kaito in the eye and does just that, putting some force into it. Like it’s gonna solve all of his life problems, end the global warming – Shark mentally shakes his fist at the stratosphere and its ozone holes, it’s fucking June and this heat is illegal – and then make the AC magically come back to life.

Bippity-boppity- _boo_ , the AC lets out one final fart and dies completely, leaving the inside of the car humid and breeze-less.

Yuuma gapes, pulling off his stuffy hoodie immediately. Haha, not so _cool_ now, are you – aaaand Kamishiro ‘Shark’ Ryouga mentally condemns himself for this pun, kill him now. “Holy shit, you did that.” Yuuma sounds infinitely amazed and amused – by the display of raw Herculean strength that comes with hitting the gym for three years in a row and then by Shark’s fucking stupidity; seriously, what did he expect?

(The answer is nothing, he simply doesn’t have impulse control, s’all.)

Yuuma giddily turns to Kaito who is far too stunned by the dented AC to say much of anything or react at a moment’s notice. When he exhales through his nose, slow and loud like some taunted bull, Ryouga mentally prepares himself for the inevitable throwdown. He’s surprisingly okay with dying in a car accident, fully knowing that Kaito will inevitably let go of the wheel to strangle him.

A moment passes. Shark says, that hey, it’s not like it’s any worse than before which is only partially a lie and Yuuma can vouch for that as well.

“…You broke it.” Kaito breathes out through his nose. “You actually broke the AC.”

“Should start thinking before challenging me to do stuff.”

“That wasn’t a challenge, you dumbass!”

“Sure sounded like one.”

“You’re paying for the repairs; I’ve nothing else to say to you,” Kaito fumes, mindful of the fact that he’s the one sitting behind the wheel and that he’s got two more people inside the vehicle, one of which he’d gladly kick out to the highway. It’s the thought that counts. “You’re switching with Yuuma this instant.”

The mentioned boy sticks out his lips in a childish pout that’s meant to be cute on someone… aged fifteen maybe. Somehow Yuuma rocks the look. “Eeeh? I don’t wanna switch, I like it in the back. More space for me.” As if to underline his words, he sprawls out on the backseat, cushioning his head with folded arms.

Kaito tries to bargain, desperate. The more time he spends near Ryouga, the more brain cells he loses. He’d rather listen to the old farts at his Dad’s conventions talk about space goo and conspiracy theories than have Ryouga around for longer than it is absolutely necessary; Shark who only ever bitches about life, low-key suicide, and the music playing on every goddamn station, constantly criticizing the genres, singers’ voice ranges, dumb song lyrics and the out of tune instruments messing up the beat. God, talk about _standards._   “I’ll even let you lord over the radio and be in charge of the windows, just don’t leave me here with this buffoon. I don’t think I can physically handle it.”

Yuuma seems to be genuinely considering their deal and Shark, of course, buts in, always the opinionated and headstrong one. “Not fair? I had to fucking sit through an hour of _smooth jazz_ and you’re giving him an access to the radio?”

“Hope you’re ready for some epic anime osts,” Yuuma rubs his dirty paws together, grinning devilishly. Shark only groans in response and vaguely gestures in the kid’s direction as if to say, “This. This is what you’re condemning us to.”

Kaito has no more shits left to give. “Your opinions contribute nothing to this conversation, Hulk.”

“You can’t just ground me to the back.”

“I can and I just did. I’ll stop soon so you better start collecting your belongings and then get your ass to the backseat.” Kaito glares, drums a beat on the wheel with his fingertips. “My car, my rules,” he adds, uncertain, as if it’s gonna convince his travel companions that every word to leave his mouth is basically The Unquestionable Law.

“Why stop when I can climb over right now? I’m sure you’d like that, seeing as you keep on talking about my ass and all.” Shark nearly chokes when he notices the reaction it gouges from the blond – a harsher glare and a splash of pink on his pale cheeks. So it’s basically nothing, but still a lot by Kaito Tenjo standards. Wow. “I always knew you had a thing for me,” he then laughs awkwardly, hoping that he’d imagined everything. Kaito’s probably just beginning to feel the heat now that their AC is a mess of chipped paint, dented plastic, and a small hole with a random wire poking out.

“Well, it’s time for you to get your head out of your _ass_ , Ryouga, because I seriously doubt that’s ever going to happen,” is all that Kaito says and they fall into an awkward silence afterwards, desperately avoiding looking at each other. Yuuma raises his eyebrows at the strange tension and brushes it off as nothing, sadly pocketing his ever-present flash. Why must his friends always make it weird and strained, gosh. Awkward courtship has never looked so bad before.

Kaito doesn’t stop for the remainder of the night, Shark doesn’t get booted out to the back either. Yuuma gladly leaves them alone to brood.

* * *

 

Shark doesn’t mope.

Sure, Kaito’s words hurt his pride a little but he tries his best to ignore the weird sensation they bring after that harmless, not-flirty comment – Ryouga would never be caught dead flirting with someone like Kaito Tenjo, he doubts a lot of people would. It’s in the way Kaito has phrased his rejection– seriously, who wouldn’t be into him? Isn’t depression hot these days?

Also Rio said that he’s good looking like once or twice in their lifetime and that counts for something.

They hit a mall at the asscrack of dawn, bonus points - no people to stare at Yuuma who has basically begged to be taken along, unused to being cooped up in one place for so long, and is now running around like a an excited puppy missing its leash. They stock up on food and a few other supplies. Shark buys some socks, underwear and a T-shirt because he’s not a complete heathen and hello, here’s the toothbrush section, bathed in fluorescent mall lights like it has descended from heaven for Shark’s eager eyes to feast upon.

He hits the bathroom right as Kaito pulls the hood over Yuuma’s two-toned, neon-tinted hair because some kid stares their way for a second too long, the gears slowly turning in the boy’s head. From his backpack alone, Shark can tell that the kid’s a young aspiring duelist to be and obviously a big fan of Yuuma’s.

It clearly takes a whole lot of effort for Yuuma not to smile and wave at his young fan who, thankfully, gets dragged along by his tired-looking mother, uncaring of some pro-duelist _Yuna Tsukino_ or whoever it is that her son is fanning over, words muffled by the colorful braces.

Shark figures that they’re safe – it’s not like some random nine-year-old is enough to blow their cover and he’s already seen the mags and their obnoxious, screaming headers with their fake photographs and interviews. On Twitter, the members of the Numbers club – wow, Yuuma’s fans sure are creative – are raving about how they totally saw Yuuma on the Crane beach, chilling in palm tree shade and drinking margaritas, how they shook his hand and then got their cleavages signed, and it really is true that Yuuma has an eight-pack and a smile so blinding that it could easily put all toothpaste commercials to shame.

Shark wonders just how many of these tweets were due to Haruto’s hacking skills.

He takes a bird bath in the sink of a smelly public bathroom and finally gets to scrub his teeth clean – no way in hell is he going to lose to Yuuma in that department even if he’s losing at everything else along with his will to live every now and then.

Shark thinks of how much _Yuuma_ could lose if they found out that he killed a man with Muzurhythm - that only has 1500 ATK and plays spicy flamenco - and then mercilessly dumped his body into a river instead of calling the cops and explaining the situation. Perhaps he’d go on probation, permanently get disqualified from the pro-dueling scene, but hey, it’s not that bad once you get over the initial heartache and hatred. You sort of learn how to live with it like a true loser cheated out of success, thank you Thomas.

His phone has fallen victim to dead batteries and Shark wants to keep it that way no matter how much Yuuma bitches about being bored but still refuses friendly duels in the back of their amalgamated shit ride with a broken AC and a faint scent of pine and seat mold, as if he’s afraid that an AR field will materialize around them and strike Shark dead on the spot. Plus, Shark doesn’t need Thomas complaining about him being a bad friend or whatever the hell the other’s talked himself into believing. You cuddle a guy once and now he thinks that there’s _something_ going on as if this is some sappy romcom and Shark, who is the protagonist’s love interest, is going to _take responsibility_ , take a bullet for the humanity and, god forbid, _date Thomas Arclight_. Which is, uh, _never going to happen._

God, he feels vile.

He exits the bathroom because some guy stares at him as if he’s a poor hobo just trying to get by – right now, he kinda is one – and goes for the parking lot. Unsurprisingly, Kaito didn’t even think to wait up for him or anything because he’s an asshole like that, so _of course_ his fellow wrongdoers are chilling there.

Yuuma is kicking his legs back and forth and enjoying the sunlight on his tanned face, the dopey smile that he wears making him all the more adorable. Kaito's busy impersonating a reaper, even more so now that he hasn’t slept for a solid three days, running on spite and acid coffee alone.

“The hood, dumbass,” Shark quips in a greeting, pointing at the twin antennas that Yuuma calls his gelled bangs.

Kaito startles, nearly drops his Starbucks coffee (as if they have spare change to waste, but taste and quality come first) and hastily leans down to check on Yuuma, only to find out that somewhere along the line the younger kid has ditched the disguise in favor of getting more sun and restoring his life-force or whatever the hell. Back in the day, Shark would think of his best friend as a flower – energetic and bright on sunny days and droopy-eyed and drained on the rainy ones. However the photosynthesis theory linked to that belief in particular was completely annihilated by Yuuma’s gluttonous mouth and ever-growling stomach. Shark’s empty fridge was enough of a solid proof that Yuuma was no fucking flower - rather, he was a bizarre food goblin who liked sunshine and couldn’t differentiate between a plus and a minus in temperature even if it slapped him in the face.

“I told you to hide your hair,” Kaito gasps, throwing the hoodie back on Yuuma’s head and covering the pink bangs. “It’ll be really bad if anyone finds out that you’re not vacationing at Crane Islands.”

“Why can’t I just be at two different places at the same time? Astral projection or something,” Yuuma grumbles and plops down on the backseat. “This is lame, not to mention uncomfortable. I _like_ my hair.”

“That’s cool and all, but,” Shark yanks at one magenta antenna. Yuuma squeaks and bats his fingers away, “this hairstyle practically screams ‘the world’s pro-duelist sweetheart right here.’” It’s true. In his lifetime, Shark’s never seen anything quite like it – Yuuma’s thick, wiry mess of hair is one of a kind. It took Shark years to learn how to style his own purple mane in a satisfactory way and Yuuma’s stuff just sorta… bounced naturally. White jealousy. “Especially the color.”

Yuuma stares, Shark stares back, Kaito zones out and stares off into the void. Yuuma suddenly gasps in offended realization, grabbing at the bouncy spikes of jet-black. “You’re not implying that I should dye it, are you!?”

“Uh, yeah? What else? Shave it?” which is a dumb suggestion to make because even if Yuuma did want to shave it off to get a better access to vitamin D and sunlight for photosynthesis, Shark highly doubts that he’d ever succeed. The clippers would break upon contact with the first horse hair growing out of Yuuma’s scalp.

“No!” Yuuma huffs, turns away from his best friend as if the mere sight of him offends his red eyes. “It’s a keepsake from my father!”

To their right, Kaito mutters a sleepy “what the fuck” into his cheap plastic coffee cup as if he doesn’t know the story of Tsukumo Kazuma and the spaceship incident, as if his father’s council of old farts wasn’t responsible for the disappearance of both Yuuma and Thomas’ fathers, so Shark has to step in before he can ruin it with his stupid, insensitive and careless mouth.  “I guess you’ll just have to wear a hat. If one’s even gonna fit on those spikes you call hair.”

Kaito is tired enough to snort and crack a genuine smile even if it’s _Ryouga_ telling a joke. “Imagine the bangs tear right through it.”

Shark can respect the way a sleep-deprived Kaito is thinking. He can hardly imagine Yuuma with a hat on – even in winter Yuuma would only wear earmuffs at best because he’s a temperature fiend and would never get sick. Never. Not even when they were kids and Shark purposefully coughed into his face because he was curious to see as to what would happen next.

Maybe Shark should try out this… sunlight therapy. Or it could be that colds simply didn’t affect idiots.

“Like you’re any better,” he tells Kaito because he needs to retain his rude asshole image but the blond ignores his existence altogether and suddenly there’s a black snapback in his free hand as though it has materialized out of thin air.

“Wear this then,” Kaito says, stern. Yuuma tends to obey him when he uses The Voice. “You should blend in with your spider… hairstyle alright. Just make sure that the pink is hidden at all times.” Yuuma reaches for the hat, still fussy and unhappy with having to hide himself away, but Kaito retracts the hand at the last moment. “And I mean it. Sleep with it on if you have to, don’t let me catch you without a disguise ever again.”

“Yes, mother.”

Kaito pinches his cheek, unyielding even after the kid apologizes.

* * *

 

Kaito tells Shark that he’ll let him drive them to Rio’s in the middle of the night “over his dead body” to which Yuuma reassures him that they’ll be very much dead in the next hour or so if Kaito doesn’t relent and get some well-deserved sleep. Shark nearly vibrates when they all switch seats – Shark behind the wheel, Yuuma riding shotgun and Kaito sprawled out in the backseat, conking out the moment his head so much as touches the bulging bag.

“Is he out?” Shark cautiously asks and cracks his knuckles. The highway stretches out before them, empty, vast, dusty. Cop-less.

Yuuma bends over the cluttered center console, waves his hands in front of Kaito’s face, snaps his fingers a little, loudly says “Haruto is going on a date” and only then reassures Ryouga that yes, Kaito’s out like a candle and shows no signs of coming back to life anytime soon. Kaito could sleep through the end of the world, Haruto’s prom, the second coming of Jesus and then some.

Yuuma bounces back into the seat and dutifully puts on the mold-scented seatbelt, grips the worn-down leather covers and commands Shark to “step on it!”

He doesn’t need to be told twice. The engine roars to life, he slams his foot down on the gas pedal as far as it can go and they take off at rocket speed, Yuuma hooting and Kaito tossing around in the back with every break or turn, dead to the world around him and to Shark wearing out his tires like a good, dutiful chauffeur.

Kaito wakes up with an upset stomach, fresh bruises and half of his body stuck in the gap between the seats. Wonders how they reached the next city so fast.

Yuuma’s hair is a windswept mess that’ll take a thousand years to comb due to him sticking out his head through the window while they were busy reenacting Fast and Furious, but Kaito doesn’t need to know any of that.

* * *

 

When he’s behind the steering wheel, Shark’s far more generous than Kaito and so he selflessly grants the latter a short, much-needed stop. Watches the pasty blond beeline to the nearest trashcan, turns up the volume to drown out the gross sounds of retching. Yuuma looks guilty but not _that guilty_ and definitely not guilty enough to _fess up_ , so instead he kicks back and then reminds Shark about the inevitable call he’ll have to make. Better sooner than later, he thinks, when he counts the distance and the time it will take them to get to their destination – three more days because their car is an actual mistake of mechanics and this country is too damn big for its own good. Perhaps even longer if Kaito doesn’t stop being such a huge drama queen who cannot handle some speed without projectile vomiting his stomach content all over the place. Disgusting, not to mention _weak._

Ryouga almost misses his apartment and the solitude it provides. More than that, he misses terrorizing the streets because he simply can’t do that with Good Citizen Kaito around – then again, who would even consider doing something like it when they’re stuck with a hearse rip-off. And not the cool, goth kind.

With a lot of grief he plugs in his phone and when it’s at a perfect 5% battery, Shark turns it on, waits for the incessant vibrations to subside and then rings up his darling twin sister.

She picks up on the third beep as always and they exchange the usual pleasantries; Rio screaming at him in a touching display of sibling worry – god damn it, Ryouga, if I find out you ended up in yet another bar fight, and no, I do not have the cash to pay bail - and Shark yelling back, defending himself the best he can - Rio, I told you everything’s fine, have some faith in me every now and then, aight? His sweet sister doesn’t seem too convinced and tells him to cut the crap and get to the point because it’s not like Ryouga to beat around the bush or ask her about studies and life via phone, so he stops fidgeting, inhales and spills the beans.

Shark knows that he must look stupid, intimidated and embarrassed, and Yuuma’s looking at him with this miffed expression on his round face as though he’s beginning to think of himself as a burden and he’s expecting Rio to tell them all to get bent because she does not wish to harbor criminals in her humble abode. Yuuma’s beginning to wring his hands and fidget and sink lower into the leather-covered seat. Ways ahead, Kaito finally stops vomiting Starbucks coffee into the trash as though the wavelengths of Yuuma’s distress are overpowering his sickness somehow. He drags his feet to the car and collapses in the back, a hand thrown over his sensitive, blood-shot eyes.

There’s a moment of silence after the Kamishiro twins finally run out of steam to carry on their yelling contest and Rio’s sigh is soft against Ryouga’s ear.

Just like Shark, she has to play the part of a tough woman. “What’s in it for me?”

Ryouga retracts his phone and gapes as if it’s transformed into a snake. Puts it back to his ear. “Your brother’s undying gratitude?”

Rio snorts. “Aww, cute. Try again, bro.”

“An all-paid mall trip,” he says without missing a beat. It takes quick wits to interact with his sister and make her listen. Good thing both of them are on pretty much even ground.

“Now we’re talking! But seriously, bootlegging duelists to _my_ place, Ryouga? Offering someone a deal like this? That’s so unlike you. It almost seems like you actually care!”

Shark mumbles about how he’s the most caring person on the face of the earth but they both know – along with his friends who only giggle (Yuuma) and roll their eyes (Kaito the Jerk) – the reality and Rio smoothly cuts him off mid-sentence (rude) her smooth voice far too smug.

“Anyways, is he cute?” which is a fucking weird thing to ask when you tell someone that you’re bringing over a possible criminal for an unknown time period, but then again Rio defies common sense and logic almost as much as Yuuma’s hair defies the laws of gravity. 

Shark’s left staring at his phone again, eyebrows knit. Why is his sister so difficult? He’s definitely the angel sibling between them. He then covers the mic and turns to his equally surprised travel buddies.

“Uh,” Shark says intelligently while Yuuma and Kaito nod, synchronized.

“We heard.”

“I… don’t know what to tell her?”

Yuuma blows out his cheeks at his best friend’s loss of words and uncertainty. “Hey! I _am_ cute!”

Shark ignores him, runs a hand through his suddenly sweaty hair and it has nothing to do with the heat. “This might be a trick question. You guys don’t know Rio, she loves mind games and is possibly evil.”

“I’m sure your sister’s not that bad!” Yuuma pats his shoulder in reassurance and wistfully nods. He grew up with a sister as well and he Feels but he’s also fooled by the sisterly charm so Shark turns in Kaito’s direction who slowly sits up, massaging his temples.

“Hey, tulip man, is Yuuma cute?”

Kaito stares at him with his hair mussed and his face blotchy as though he’s either hungover or stoned or both and then back at Yuuma, peels back the corners of his lips to show a row of perfect teeth and sucks in a long breath, waving a hand in a “so-so” motion. “Ehh, objectively, I guess.”

“You guys are mean!” Yuuma cries out but doesn’t have it in him to throw anything at Kaito no matter how much trash (mostly wrappers and empty cans) they have piled on their central console and on top of the dusty dash.

Shark cradles his dying phone, shoots one last uncertain look at Yuuma and hisses a “um… yes?” that sounds more of a question than a statement and Yuuma takes offense to that, crosses his arms and looks out the window, frowning all the while. Shark sighs and makes mental note to placate the other later on, it’s not like he means to insult Yuuma it’s just that – his _sister_ , y’know. And Yuuma really _doesn’t_ know. _No one_ knows Rio like Shark does. “Yes, he is,” he repeats, more firm and believable. “Why are you asking me this? What, are you going to decide whether you want him or not based on looks alone?” he jokes, but in reality, he’s sweating bullets. Rio’s _not_ vain like that but he can never be sure.

Upon hearing the tone of his voice, Rio bursts out laughing. Shark exhales a breath he’s been holding in since the beginning of this awkward conversation. “No, silly! I’m not asking for myself, Ryouga, I’m asking because I want to know just what kind of a special case this boy is for you to help him out so much. It’s like you don’t know me at all, dear brother!” Rio’s voice turns giddy then. “What’s his name?” she _oohs_. “Do I know him?”

From behind him, Kaito looks like he’s in even more physical pain than before. “I can’t believe you even got this far without even disclosing the guy’s name or background. If you described some stranger as “good, won’t even notice he’s there” I’d tell you to fuck off immediately.”

“Shut up, fucker,” Shark barks over a shoulder, and then back to the phone “it’s Yuuma. Tsukumo Yuuma.”

He knows that Rio’s certainly met Yuuma when they were kids but he doesn’t think that she remembers him well. They were, what now, ten? Not to mention the fact that he and Yuuma didn’t even know each other all that well – they only became good friends in Shark’s second year of middle school.

He listens to Rio’s muffled “Tsukumo, Tsukumo…” and he can almost visualize her trying to pin the name to a face. By some cosmic chance she seemingly succeeds. “Aaah! Yuuma! The one I taught the Purple-Nurple when we were kids?”

Yuuma’s eyes light up like two lightbulbs as he sticks his face close to Shark’s phone, therefore Shark’s face and exclaims “the same one, Shark’s sis!”

Rio lets out a gleeful _eeeeek_ and Shark’s vision goes dark around the edges when he puts two and two together and then turns to look at Yuuma at neck-breaking speed, noses nearly brushing. “Wait a second. Rio, you – you did what!?” he fists the front of Yuuma's bright shirt, hisses “you’re the reason why I walked around looking like a fucking _smurf_ for an entire week!?” and then grabs a cackling Yuuma in his tightest, most brutal headlock.

“Shark! Shark, have mercy!” Yuuma squeezes out but he’s still laughing and Shark’s still very much degraded, cheeks flushed a dark red. “I’m sorry- don’t! I was like nine, come on!”

Kaito salvages Shark’s phone but not Yuuma’s poor, frail neck and snorts. “Oh, I do remember that. I guess that really wasn’t some,” another snort, “bizarre smurf fashion statement.” And having these two for neighbors sucked, going to the same middle and then high sucked as well and now they’re friends and they’re running away from law together and Kaito’s making friends with Rio over Shark’s phone while he’s busy throttling a guy who killed a man with card games.

Could be worse.

* * *

 

Be careful what you wish for, Ryouga, he thinks to himself when he and Yuuma are finally out of breath and Yuuma’s somehow magically alive but noogied to hell and back and Kaito hands over the cell with a satisfied “your sister thinks that you’re in love with Yuuma.”

Shark chokes on nothing and then maybe his dignity or what’s left of it. Yuuma’s eyebrows nearly ascend at how fast they rise and he regards Shark’s flushed face, and no, it’s not like that, you jerk.

Kaito takes great pleasure in witnessing the shades of sunset on Ryouga’s suddenly very warm cheeks, turns to Yuuma. “Ryouga’s been secretly in love with you since fifth grade,” he confides it like a secret, never mind the fact that Shark can hear him and backhand him at any given moment.

Yuuma touches his chest, grinning. “Sweet!”

“I am not!” he yells defensively and tries to forget the fact that he totally was. In fifth grade, anyway.

“Aww.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s lying.” Kaito grins. “There’s no need to be sad.”

“I’m _not_ ,” Shark hisses in warning, hopefully threatening, but really sounds like a kindergartener involved in a stupid, petty fight.

“Now, Shark, there’s no need to be shy,” Yuuma joins in on this massive nonsense party and smiles at his fellow acquaintance who never ceases to make Ryouga’s life a massive shitstorm and a living nightmare. Kaito’s a dick like that – a dick without hobbies other than being a genuinely horrible person.

“I’m not _in love_ with you!” Shark raises his voice and smacks the steering wheel before sinking into the leather, crossing his arms. He wishes he could dent this one too and then takes it back immediately because what if their entire ride falls apart and he’ll end up stranded here with these two idiots for the next week or so. He’d rather eat a pepper-onion taco than stick around for too long. His companions still don’t look very convinced so Shark inhales and finally confesses “Look, I have my eye on someone else, okay! And it’s not Yuuma, so there!”

That shuts them up and, oh thank duel spirits, it makes the leering gazes stop.

Kaito is the first one to speak up because he’s Kaito thus unperturbed by all things disturbing and Ryouga harboring romantic feelings for someone definitely tops the top three horrors he’s ever heard/witnessed. “Oh… that… poor, poor victim. I hope you never tell them. Set them free from this curse.”

Shark seriously considers the backhand option but then Yuuma stops vibrating and lets his throat loose “Oooooh, tell me, tell, tell, tell, tell, come on!” He bounces in his seat as though Daddy Shark has just told him that they’re going to Disneyland and they’ll be having cake for dinner.

Which is really fucking disgusting because it means that Yuuma is radiating an innocent, ill intention-free wonder and that just won’t do. “We are not having this conversation!” he roars over Yuuma’s excited yipping and Kaito sticks his fingers into his ears, wincing.

“I bet he’s hot for Thomas,” he groans at the same time Yuuma gasps and coos “ _uuuuu,_ is it IV?” and Shark sees no other way out but death.

He gently runs his fingers over the dash and sighs wistfully. “If I slam my head against it hard enough, will I die?”

“Probably not,” Kaito echoes from the back and slumps against the seat. “But you can always try bashing it in a second time if the first one fails.”

Shark tries to convince himself that It Could Be Worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is dragging out a bit because i'm a tired, tired man
> 
>  
> 
> being shark is suffering


End file.
